


Dog Days

by marauderblood



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, M/M, Raising Harry, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-03 19:05:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marauderblood/pseuds/marauderblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Dumbledore took Harry from Number 4, Privet Drive, far before age 11? What if Remus and Sirius had the chance to raise their best friend's son as their own? A series of one shots exploring life, love, and home, under these circumstances. SBRL slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. October 9, 1985

Harry James Potter was having a very confusing day. Or maybe night. Morning? He wasn’t quite sure, anymore. The old man had arrived after the sun set, yesterday. He had a very long talk with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon – so long, in fact, that Harry fell asleep waiting for them to finish. He usually couldn’t sleep with strangers in the house (it frightened him, the office parties that Uncle Vernon sometimes hosted had loud, rude people), but his eyes softly shut of their own accord. It was still dark when the old man took him, and they’d been traveling ever since.

Actually, Harry wasn’t even too sure about that. The old man lifted him, and asked him to count to three. Harry did, and suddenly they were squeezed really tight, by something invisible, and wham! They landed on the concrete, in an ally. It was still dark, but there were lots of people in coats, carrying styrofoam cups of coffee or tea. They didn’t seem to see Harry, or the old man. Not even when Harry almost got whacked by a woman’s swinging purse.

They got to a big, tall, glass building, just as the sun was rising. Once inside, things were very different. First of all, people began to notice them again. They would nod at the old man, and some ladies would coo when they saw the five-year-old with the goofy hair. Second, they were dressed in crazy dresses, just like the old man. Third, everything was a bit… strange. Things that ought not to fly were zooming through the air, and some people carried short wooden sticks, like Dudley would do when he went Harry Hunting at the park. The memory, not to mention how crowded the room was getting, made Harry shrink into the old man’s side. The boy was lifted again, and got to be carried all the way in to the elevator!

Harry couldn’t begin to explain how strange the elevator was.

They ended up on a very high floor (Harry lost count after seven), and the old man finally put him down. They stood in a small alcove, between the elevator and one dark brown door.

“I imagine you have a lot of questions, Harry.”

This was new, as well. The old man was very nice at the house (he helped Harry pack his things), but hadn’t said much since. It wasn’t so much that Harry trusted him, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon made their nephew leave. Harry figured he was just lucky that the poor man they shoved him off onto was so kind.

“No, sir.”

The old man quirked an eyebrow. “This has been a completely normal night for you, then?”

Harry shied away, his back against the wall. It was awful when grown ups asked questions they didn’t mean.

The old man took the hint, and his face dropped to the gentle, caring one that Harry saw before. “There is quite a bit to explain. I only meant that I wouldn’t be surprised if you do have questions. This night has been confusing even for a silly old man, like me.”

That had Harry cracking a small smile. The old man seemed to like it, as his eyes got all funny and twinkly. “There are two very important people waiting to meet you, behind this door. Shall we?” He raised his fist to knock.

Harry nodded agreement.

The knock was soft, and only one had been rapped out before there was a great “Whoop!” from inside.

“They’re here! Moony, he’s here!” A hoarse voice yelled.

“Calm down.” The other voice answered. It was much milder, but still sounded a bit edgy. Harry was very good at reading grown ups from the sound of their voice. He had lots of practice.

The door swung open. Harry tried not to stare, but he couldn’t help it. These were two of the scariest people he’d ever seen in his life. One had long black hair, tied back in a messy ponytail. He had a beard and a mustache, and his clothes (a leather jacket and denim pants) were just as inky as his hair. Even his eyes had dark circles around them. He looked like those bikers that always made Aunt Petunia lock the car doors at the petrol station. 

The other man was much too tall. At least he was dressed normal - sensibly, Aunt Petunia would say - in a red jumper and blue denim pants. The real frightening thing about the second man was that he had three scars across his face. He looked quite dangerous.

Harry jumped behind the old man who just chuckled. “Come, Harry. These two won’t hurt you. Let’s get inside, shall we?”

The boy’s voice was as small as his three feet two inches self. “Will you stay, sir?”

He got a solemn nod in return. “Of course.”

Wary, he followed in. The flat was like nothing he’d ever seen! Aunt Petunia would think it was messy (though Harry wondered if she’d ever seen Dudley’s second bedroom), but he was captivated by the stuff, all around him: bookshelves overflowing with books, three different globes in one corner, large pictures of faraway places on the walls, and a couch that looked very squishy. The old man led to said couch, and they sat, the scary men in mismatched armchairs across from them.

“How much does he know?” The tall one asked.

“Very little.” The old man answered. “Only that I’m an old friend of his parents, and that I needed to take him away from his aunt and uncle.”

The biker looking man scoffed, and mumbled something that sounded like “about damn time.”

“Positivity.” The tall one whispered back, chiding. He then turned his attention to Harry, a soft smile on his face. “My name is Remus, and this is Sirius. It’s very nice to meet you. We’re old friends of your mum and dad, as well.”

“You can’t remember, of course, but we used to see you all the time, when you were very little.” The biker looking man added.

Harry couldn’t yet bring himself to converse directly with the scary men, so he looked up at the old man. “You all really knew my mum and dad?”

“Of course!” The old man smiled. “I was their teacher, and these were two of their closest friends.”

Harry had no idea what to say in response. “That’s good, then. I don’t know much about them. I can’t even remember the car crash.”

“What car crash?” Sirius barked out. Harry shrunk closer to the old man.

Remus rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to excuse Sirius, Harry. He’s not angry with you, don’t worry. He can get loud and shouty, like an overgrown puppy.” He smiled, but Harry kept his expression guarded. “Did your aunt and uncle tell you that your parents died in a car crash?”

Harry nodded.

Remus moved closer to the edge of his seat, and leaned in. He could probably reach out and grab Harry’s leg, if he wanted to, but Harry wasn’t nearly as wary of this stranger as he was just minutes ago. “They weren’t telling you the truth – I’d wager they didn’t tell you the truth about a couple of important things. It’s a long story for another day, when we’re all less exhausted. For now, you just need to know that your parents were good people. They love you very much, and died protecting you.”

“You can’t call Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon liars.” He looked up to the old man again. “I’ll be in trouble.”

“Perhaps not.” The old man commented. “Why don’t you explain, Remus?”

There was a moment, as if neither of the - now slightly less scary - men knew what to say. Harry kicked his feet in anticipation, but quickly stopped. If he scuffed the couch, that would be real trouble. For some reason, though, no one seemed to notice or mind.

“We heard that you hurt your arm very badly yesterday.” Remus finally began.

It was the first time Harry remembered, since the old man came last night. Funny, it should hurt much, much more than it did.

Dudley had shoved him down at the top of the steps, like usual. Harry reached out to steady himself, but he couldn’t reach the banister. Instead, his body tumbled down a few steps, while his arm got caught between the vertical rails. There was a gross cracking noise, and more pain than Harry could ever remember feeling. Aunt Petunia groaned and pulled him up, asking if he thought she actually had the time for a visit to the hospital right now, and how on earth could he be so careless?

They spent the entire morning, after dropping Dudley off at school, with the doctor. It was all a jumble to Harry: there were a lot of questions, prodding instruments, and scribbled notes. Finally, a very nice nurse came in. She cleaned his arm (which now had no feeling, at all) for a long time, and then wrapped it up tight in white cloth. He waited for the bandage to harden into a cast while Aunt Petunia signed a bunch of papers. Then, after all that, Harry was released.

It was well after the school day when they got back to Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon was mad, because he had to leave work early to pick up Dudley. Harry was sent to his cupboard while his Aunt and Uncle talked – then things got truly nasty. Uncle Vernon was even angrier, and Harry couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. His Uncle retrieved a hammer from the shed, and started to whack at Harry’s cast. That hurt even more than when it first broke, it was awful.

“You want your school to get a load of this, don’t you?” The red faced man yelled. “Hoping Child Welfare will come to pay a visit? The nerve, after all we’ve done for you! All our sacrifices for an ungrateful freak!”

The cast was totally hacked off by then, but the screaming continued. Harry was thrown into the cupboard with the arrival of the visitor, and he knew his arm still hurt, then. Sometime after he met the old man, he supposed, the hurting just managed to stop on its own.

“It was an accident.” Harry admitted, trying direct conversation with Remus.

“Your Uncle hurt you, didn’t he?” Sirius spoke up again.

“He did not! I fell down the stairs!” Harry insisted. He would not be in trouble for this, not if he could help it.

“He hurt you after, though.” The old man interjected. “When he took apart your cast.”

“How did you know? That was before you got there.”

It was quiet, again. Remus looked at the old man with a raised brow, and the old man shook his head. “We were friends of your parents, Harry, as mentioned before. We wanted to make sure things were going well for you, so we set up a monitoring system. It would be difficult to explain further, for right now. I came over because I saw that your Uncle was hurting you.”

“You’re not in trouble for what he did.” Remus quickly added. “He, in fact, is going to be the one in quite a bit of trouble. We decided, as those closest to your parents, that you shouldn’t live with him or your Aunt anymore.”

Harry was confused, to say the absolute least. “I have to go home, though. My school is there, and my room.”

“Not anymore.” Sirius joined in, again. “It’s dangerous for you to live with those people. I’m very sorry, Harry. So is Remus, and Professor Dumbledore here-“

So that was the old man’s name!

“- if we knew what was going on, you wouldn’t have lived there for so long. Enough is enough. We think it would be better if you lived here, instead. With Remus and me.”

A new home? Harry couldn’t believe it. He felt his eyes widen, and his chest went all jumpy. No one told Harry he was leaving leaving. No more Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, or Dudley? Not ever?

“I’m not going back to the Dursleys?” Harry whispered.

“Not ever.” Sirius promised.

“Even if they yell?” The child managed to caution. This was all too much. “One time, my teacher said I wouldn’t have to go back anymore. Aunt Petunia came to the school and yelled a lot, and then I had to go back anyway. I got in a lot of trouble.”

Remus shook his head. “They can yell as much as they want, we won’t move you an inch.”

“I don’t think they will.” Harry added. “They’ll be afraid. You’re tall, and he looks scary.” He gestured to Sirius, then immediately hung his head. How rude. “Sorry.”

Shockingly enough, no one shoved his head farther down, or pushed him off the couch. They laughed, even Sirius! It wasn’t the mean laugh that meant you’d be smacked in a minute, either. It was “something funny on the telly” laughter.

“He does indeed look rather scary. I’ve been trying to fix that, but Sirius here is stubborn as a mule.” Remus rolled his eyes. It was silly, so among the continued chortles of the other two men, Harry managed to sneak in a giggle.

“It’s only how he looks, Harry. I can promise these are two very nice people. They’ll protect you and take care of you-“ Dumbledore began.

Sirius was quick to interrupt. “Tell you stories about your mum and dad, teach you to ride a br- bike, read you books, bandage up your scrapes, make fantastic chocolate sundaes-“

In turn, Sirius was interrupted by Remus. “I know this place doesn’t look like much fun, but it really can be. You’ll have your own room, too. It isn’t much now, but after we’re all well rested, Sirius and I will help you decorate it however you like.”

Harry had no idea what to say. He was torn between running to hug their legs (as he’d seen Dudley do to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon so many times) and running away, because no way would these people want to keep him around once they realized what an awful burden he was.

He then realized there wasn’t much of a choice. They were making it sound good, but no one asked Harry’s opinion. They said he’d be living here now, and he knew better than to disobey a grown up. “Thank you,” he looked between the two across from him, “it’s very nice of you to let me stay.”

They both broke out into huge smiles, and Dumbledore’s eyes went all twinkly. Harry, of course, didn’t mention it – he didn’t want to use any freak words so soon.

“It’s very nice of you to come stay with us.” Remus said.

“It’ll be great fun.” Sirius added. His smile, Harry noticed, screamed of mischief.

“Harry, I’m going to go home now.” Dumbledore moved a hand to the boy’s back. “I believe all four of us deserve a long lie-in today. Sirius and Remus will show you to your room, and I’ll be by again tomorrow evening.”

Harry nodded.

Dumbledore raised a hand in farewell to the men, and was swift to the door. He was almost out when Harry raised his voice. “Um, sir?”

“Yes, Harry?” he took a step back inside.

“Thank you for taking me from the Dursleys.”

The twinkle was back, in full force. Or was the old man, for some reason, teary? “It was my pleasure.” He then fully stepped out, and there was a pop! outside the door.

Remus walked over and bent down. It was almost, almost like he’d lift Harry up, but decided against it. Instead, he gestured for the boy to follow him and Sirius, who was bounding down a corridor at the back of the room.

“I’m just making sure it’s still right!” Sirius called.

Remus laughed. “He already checked four times, before you got here. We are very excited that you’re moving in.” He whispered to Harry.

Harry giggled, again. It didn’t seem like he’d get in trouble for that, here, so he might as well.

They passed one set of doors, and stopped at the second, where the one to the left was open. Were they showing him one of their rooms first? That was odd. It was sparse, but in a comfortable grown up way. A big bed was in the middle, up against the opposite wall. There was a dresser right to the left, a squishy looking rocking chair to the right, and a door at the back right corner. There were loads of books on shelves, put away much more neatly than those in the sitting room. 

“It isn’t much for a kid, now, but like Remus said, we’ll work on it tomorrow.” Sirius explained. His calm words were betrayed by the way his heels bounced against the wood floor, like a dog waiting for a ball to be tossed.

“Wait, this is where I go?” Harry was confused.

“Will it be all right?” Remus (for some reason) sounded worried.

“I don’t want to- this was someone else’s room, wasn’t it? Don’t you want your room to yourself? I can sleep on the couch, I don’t mind.” Harry pardoned himself. “I don’t want to be in the way.”

This time it was Sirius who bent down, at eye level. “You are certainly not in the way, Harry. This used to be Remus’s room, a very long time ago. He hasn’t slept here in years. It was just waiting for you to arrive, I think! The flat knew all along it would be getting another occupant.” The man teased. “Is it okay?”

“Okay?” Harry was incredulous. “It’s brilliant. I could fit forty million of my bedrooms in this one, it’s even bigger than my cousin’s!”

Sirius grinned (still like he was up to no good). “Fantastic.”

Harry was feeling gutsy enough by then, so he managed a question. “Where do you go, then? I thought you lived here, too.” He addressed Remus.

The adults looked at one another for quite a long time. Long enough that Harry was sure he crossed the line. “Sorry, I- sorry.”

“Oh, no. You haven’t done anything, love.” Remus rested a hand on the child’s shoulder, and joined Sirius in crouching down. “Your Aunt and Uncle share a room, don’t they? And your friends at school, their parents share a room, as well? Even though we’re both boys, Sirius and I share a room just like that.”

Harry understood. They were being careful, because this was one of the things he wasn’t allowed to talk about, at home nor at school. “Susan – at school – has a mum and a mum instead of a mum and a dad. I’m not supposed to mention it because Aunt Petunia says it’s ‘indecent,’ but they’re the second nicest parents in the class. Her mum with the brown hair brings the dog to school when she picks up Susan, and lets me pet it until Aunt Petunia remembers to come for me. You’re like that, then?”

Sirius and Remus appeared relieved. “Exactly.” Sirius nodded. “Like Susan’s mums.”

Harry shrugged. It didn’t make much of a difference to him. “Okay. Thank you for letting me use the room.”

Sirius stood, moving towards the interior door. “You’re not just using it, Harry. It’s yours! This is your bathroom, but we’re going to lock it up at night, okay? You’re just a little too little to be going in at night without one of us knowing.”

Harry was ashamed. “I can use the toilet myself. I’m five.”

“Right, of course you can.” Remus agreed. “During the day that’s no problem. At night, though, what if you slipped on the wet tile and hurt yourself? I might not hear you yell because this one snores so loudly.” He pointed to Sirius, who pretended to be offended. “If you need to use the bathroom, come right across the hall and wake one of us up.”

“If you need anything at all, just come in and shake us awake. We don’t mind, at all. The door’ll stay open.” Sirius continued.

There was absolutely no way in the world Harry would do so, but he nodded just the same. These two didn’t like it when Harry tried not to make a fuss, it seemed. How strange.

“Um, what about my pajamas? Mister Dumbledore helped me pack them away into a bag he had, but I don’t think he left it here.” Harry looked about, as though he might have missed it.

“He’s a very smart man, but he can be very silly.” Sirius explained. “He probably dropped the bag off in the sitting room, but forgot to mention. I’ll go fetch it while Remus helps you brush your teeth.”

“My toothbrush!” Harry exclaimed. “Oh no, I forgot it-“

“That’s no problem, I’m sure we have an extra unused one around here.” Remus led the way to the loo.

“No,” Harry moaned, “you can’t just give me one, they cost so much money!”

“Harry,” said Sirius, who hadn’t walked out yet, “what in Mer- what on Earth do you mean? A toothbrush is less than five sic- damn, I mean short of two pounds. We’re responsible for you now, getting you a toothbrush is the least we can do.”

“It’s very wasteful of me, since I have a perfectly good toothbrush at home. Plus it’s ungrateful, since the one I’ve got is practically new. I just got it for my birthday this summer. I really am sorry.” Harry shrugged at this less than stellar start. Gosh, how quick did it take a freak like him to mess up?

“A toothbrush for your birthday?” Remus sounded surprised. “From your Aunt and Uncle?”

Harry nodded.

“What else did you get?”

Harry shrugged.

Out of nowhere at all, strong arms pulled Harry up off the floor. He thought he was really in for it and cringed to protect his head, but no vicious blow came. He was being held tight against a warm torso, his head held protectively over a leather-clad shoulder. Sirius had lifted him? Out of the two men, Harry certainly would’ve guessed the other would be the more likely hugger. Harry, very confused, managed to wrap his arms around the nearby neck so that he wouldn’t fall off.

“That would be happening anymore.” Sirius sounded particularly gruff and scratchy. “You can have a new toothbrush every day, if you like.”

A comforting hand started to rub his back. Seeing as both of Sirius’s were occupied holding him, Harry figured it was Remus. “Your birthday will be the big, giant, messy celebration that it was intended to be. You’ll have so many presents you won’t know what to do with yourself. Christmastime, too. I’m sure this December Santa Claus will have to make up for all the years the Dursleys tried to keep him away from you.” The tall man said, soothing. “You two don’t move a muscle, I’ll go for Harry’s bag.”

Remus left, and Sirius disobeyed. He didn’t put Harry down, but did begin to slowly walk about the room. Harry knew it was rude of him, but he was tired enough that this slow stroll might put him to sleep. “You know what the best part is, Harry?” Sirius spoke low, near a whisper. “Very soon, you won’t even think this is strange. It’ll be perfectly natural for you to have the world’s best birthdays, and a nice big room, fit for a prince such as yourself. You’ll get used to having two people who care for you very much, and you won’t ever have to even think about that awful place where you used to live. We’ll go for new trainers tomorrow evening, okay? I’d say we’d get you all new clothes, but that’s a tall order for tomorrow, seeing as we’ll be sleeping a good portion of the day. Just trainers tomorrow, and Thursday we can go for new clothes. A load of toys as well. Remus might make us get some boring books, but I think we’ll take home the ten biggest toys in the shop, as a priority.”

“S’a lot.” Harry commented, dreary.

“A lot is not enough!” Sirius announced. “Then we’ll get back home, all worn out and happy. Remus will make us all cocoa and you two can sit and drink it while mine gets cold, because I’ll be trying to assemble all your new toys. You and Remus will laugh at me ‘till your sides hurt, but I won’t mind at all, because I’m just so happy to have you here with us.”

“Hey.” Came a new whisper. Remus was back.

Harry lifted his head, and opened his now heavy eyelids.

“Your pajamas looked very scratchy, Harry, but I found these lying around. Want to wear them, instead?”

Remus was holding up a pair of brilliant blue PJs. They looked like the sky and moved like water – Harry would have said “Brilliant!” had be been able to manage anything more than a weary smile.

“Brilliant.” Remus said it for him, in reply. Harry was gently laid on the bed, and was nearly asleep by the time the four helping hands had succeeded in changing his clothes. He was tucked beneath the covers, nice and tight but not too tight, like he was a little worm in a cocoon. Warm hands played at the fringe of his hair, and he might have felt a kiss on the head, but he was teetering too far on the edge of consciousness to truly register anything.

He knew he was safe, warm, and happy. Things were certainly changing, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it should have been. Two total strangers in a random London flat were completely in charge of him now, but his mind wasn’t calling it frightening. It was calling this “home.”


	2. The Adventures of Sir Singington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry adjusts to life with Moony and Padfoot, and the men adjust to having a Harry.

            “Ugf!”

 

            Remus looked up from his bed, where he’d been comfortably trying to finish up the last ten pages of his novel. The interruption was a small body, which managed to loudly toss itself onto the center of the large rug that took up most of the room. Harsh breaths raised and lowered the little tummy, despite the dramatically sprawled pose (complete with eyes rolled all the way upwards, though they kept flicking towards the bed), which would otherwise have one believe the boy to be at least comatose. Naptime, Remus realized, was decidedly over.

 

            “Help,” a small whisper flew from the otherwise still mouth, “Help me. The Hungarian Horntail just fireballed me out of his cave.”

 

            “He did, did he?” Remus raised an eyebrow, sticking a bookmark at his page and placing the book on the night table, hopefully far from danger. “I thought a brave prince such as yourself would be able to slay a beast such as that!”

 

            Harry sighed, breaking character as he ran out of the room, making Remus smile. These past few months hadn’t been easy; trying to free Harry from the mold his previous guardians had shoved him into. Pretend games, such as this one, were relatively new and exciting progress. Similarly exciting (and woeful) was realizing that Harry was picking up on Sirius’s penchant for the dramatic.

 

            “I’m a _knight_ , not prince!” The child was back, waving a small book above his head. Of course, Remus understood, this was a reenactment of last night’s bedtime story. That would make Harry “Sir Singington,” and if he appeared before Remus after the dragon, that would make the older man…

 

            “I’m not Princess Purplefoot, am I?” Remus exaggeratedly moaned.

 

            Harry spent a moment in contemplation before giggling. “No, you’re not a girl! In our version it’s Loopy Lorgaan who fixes Sir Singington. That makes more sense, anyway, and it’s not fair that Loopy Lorgaan is only in the beginning.”

 

            Remus smiled, inwardly grateful. He much preferred playing the eccentric medicine man than the dewy-eyed ingénue. “Sir Singington, you’ve been hurt!” He exclaimed, in a put on voice.

 

            “I was _fireballed._ ” Harry said again, very impressed with his made up word. “I’m burnt here, here, and here and here.” He pointed to his forehead, chin, and both knees, and then dropped back onto the rug. “I’ve also got Dragon Pox, and I walked so much I don’t think I even have feet anymore.”

 

            “That’s quite a list!” Remus laughed, and immediately quieted at Harry’s _this is serious_ glare.

 

            “I’m a knight, Loopy Lorgaan. I get hurt a lot because it’s my whole job to protect everybody!” The child proclaimed, shooting to stand. “Look, I can stand up, even though I don’t have feet. That’s how brave I am.”

 

            It was heartening to see more and more James peek out, every day. Lily was there from almost the beginning, evident in her son’s inclination towards good will, and insatiable inquisitive nature. Egging out his father took more effort, but Harry was slowly latching onto the gutsiness and confidence that naturally accompanied his legendary Potter hair.

 

“You don’t need to get hurt to be brave.”

 

            “Scars are awesome! Padfoot says my scar is awesome, and it’s proof how brave me and my mom and my dad are.”

 

            Heartening and a headache, Remus supposed.

 

            “Padfoot is right, of course.” He reassumed his “Loopy Lorgaan” voice: “What shall I do for you, sir? How can I heal your ailments?”

 

            “Magic!” Harry gasped, falling back to the rug. “You have to magic my feet back on, and magic the burns back to normal. Then I can go to the Diamond Geyser and drink up to make my Dragon Pox go away. You can’t fix those.”

 

            “Got it.” He made a show of rummaging for his wand, did a few nonsensical spells and overdone wand work for effect. Harry’s preliminary understanding of magic was endearing: it was a verb to be used anytime no other solution came to mind. Remus and Sirius hoped to uphold this innocent rational for as long as possible.

 

He eventually incanted a simple charm that blanketed Harry with illusionary blue glitter. “Do you see the magic? Is it working?”

 

            “It’s…” Harry dramatically rolled onto his side. “It’s…” Another theatrical flop, now onto his stomach. “I’M FIXED!” He jumped into the air and ran circles around the room.

 

            “Thank you, Loopy Lorgaan!” Harry finally ended his celebratory jog to stand before Remus. “As a reward, you can travel with me on the rest of my journey. Do you accept?”

 

            “Hm, I’ll have to think about it.” Remus walked to his dresser and toyed with the framed pictures on top: him and Sirius fooling around (in the most innocent of ways) while making dinner, a baby picture of Harry getting his face squished by Lily and James, and a very recent picture of Harry with his arms around Padfoot’s (dog version) neck.

 

            “You can drink up at the Diamond Geyser, too!” Harry offered as incentive.

 

            “I don’t have Dragon Pox.” Remus drawled. “Why would I want anything from the Diamond Geyser?”

 

            “Because maybe one day you’ll get Dragon Pox, but your body will remember that it got to drink at the Diamond Geyser and you won’t get sick.” The child suggested.

 

            Remus had to bite his tongue to stop the compliment that was already forming on his lips. He used to roll his eyes at the sappy parents who waxed poetic on their gifted and talented children, but now he understood. Besides, how could other kids hold a light to this? Harry was so _smart._

 

            “Good thinking, Sir Singington. Let’s be off.”

 

            The boy gestured for Remus to lean in. He cupped his hands to the older’s ear, in secrecy.

 

            “You have to play the noble steed, too. I can’t carry you.”

 

            “Aye, Sir Singington.” He grabbed Harry around the middle and swung the boy all the way up, to sit on his shoulders.

 

             A burst of raucous laughter was all it took for Remus to decide he’d be lifting Harry like that on a daily basis. “I’m the tallest kid in the world! I’m even taller than you up here, Moony!”

 

            The man had to join in, as the child’s giggles were infectious. “What’s it like, all the way up there?”

 

            “I can see my house from here!” Harry joyfully cried.

 

            “So can I – you’re in your house, goofball.” Remus freed one of his hands to tickle Harry’s bare feet.

 

            In an effort not to fall from the sudden attack, Harry wrapped his arms around Remus’s head, effectively blinding his “noble steed.”

 

            “Stop it, stop, you’re a horse!” Harry managed to speak between bursts of laughter.

 

            Remus complied, moving his hand back to secure Harry by the ankles. He neighed, and started in a light jog around the room.

 

            “The Diamond Geyser is in the kitchen. This way!” Harry pointed forward, poised for battle.

 

            Remus neighed again and made way by Harry’s instruction. They were exiting the room when - _shite._

            How thick would someone have to be to not realize they needed to _duck_ to get through a doorway, when carrying a five-year-old on their shoulders?

 

            The wails were instantaneous. Remus felt a great wave of relief beneath his guilt; crying was a good indicator that the injury wasn’t critical. Gingerly, he set Harry back down to the ground.

 

            “I’m so, so sorry, Pup. Does it hurt awfully?” Remus heard his voice break with his words.

 

            Harry had one hand rubbing his forehead, and the other wiping furiously at tears. “Lots. Hurts lots. Why did you _do_ that?”

 

            “I didn’t mean to.” He apologized, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “Hold on, I’ll get some medicine, and we’ll see if you have to go to St. Mungo’s.”

 

            He lifted Harry onto the bed, and hurried into the bathroom for the potions cabinet.

 

            “No!” Harry yelled from the adjacent room as Remus shuffled through the jars. “Not going to the doctor’s!”

 

            “Only if I can’t fix it, Puppy.” He brought the Deflating Draught and Murtlap Essence in, sitting gingerly on the bed beside Harry.

 

            About a week into their new living arrangements, it came to light that Harry hadn’t had a proper medical examination since being in the care of James and Lily. It was fortunate that his school nurse had been observant enough to occasionally diagnose the child, but that simply wasn’t enough healthcare for a growing boy. The subsequent trip to St. Mungo’s had been a disaster, to say the least. The staff couldn’t get enough of The Boy Who Lived making his first quasi-public appearance since earning the title. Harry was just as passionately disinclined to make their acquaintance, once he realized they’d also be poking him, prodding him, and forcing nasty potions into his mouth.

 

            It was an experience that Remus wasn’t anxious to relive.

 

“It was an accident, Harry. A big mistake, because your Moony is a right doofus, aren’t I?”

 

            The child let out a little sigh, perhaps almost a laugh. “I thought Padfoot was the doofus. ‘Swat you said when he burned my pancakes yesterday.”

 

            “Well it wasn’t fair that you had to suffer because he doesn’t know how to talk and cook at the same time.” Remus explained. Harry laugh-sighed again.

 

Remus uncapped the murtlap and rubbed some onto Harry’s forehead, hoping to soothe it before a bruise formed. He then uncorked the draft. “Three big sips, okay?”

 

            Harry obliged. After a minute or two of silent cuddling, spirits seemed to pick up. “When do I get to make magic stuff like this? Then I’d never get hurts or ouches again!”

 

            Remus smiled. “We told you all about Hogwarts, remember? When you turn eleven, you get to go away and learn all about doing magic.”

 

            “But that’s so far!” Harry protested. “I can’t do anything before?’’

 

            “Nope. It’s too dangerous, and didn’t Padfoot and I promise to keep you extra-super-duper-safe?” He reminded the child.

 

            “You can watch me!” Harry bargained.

 

            “I think it’s better that you watch us, for now. Besides, don’t you like having two personal wizards do all your magic for you?” That earned Remus a giggle, sweeter than any spell.

 

            “Make my walls polka dot again!” Harry cheered. Remus was more than happy to oblige.

 

xxxxxxxxxx

 

            Hours later, Remus sat down in the living room, intent on finishing up those last ten pages of his book.

 

            This plan was very short lived. The door swung open, and Sirius marched in with all the grace and poise of an injured hippogriff.

 

            “Moony!” He loudly whined, dropping his briefcase and outer robes to the floor as he approached the couch. “Moony, I’m so exhausted.”

 

            “Quiet!” Remus gently scolded. “Harry’s sleeping.”

 

            “S’not my fault you put him to bed so early. Why can’t he stay awake to see me once I’m home?” With an inelegant crash landing, Sirius was laying on the couch, head in Remus’s lap.

 

            Despite his previously attempted admonishment, Remus found his hands gently playing through his lover’s hair. “He’s five. He can’t stay up until midnight for you. Let’s work on petitioning for a better schedule, next quarter.”

 

            “’M gonna. ‘M on it.” Sirius cuddled in closer, apparently settling in for the night.

 

            “Rough day?” Remus set his book aside, certain he’d get to actually completing it tomorrow. Well, almost certain.

 

            “Some Aurors are right pricks, you know that?” Sirius shook his head. “Of course you know that. Never mind our training is about five times more rigorous, never mind we land ‘bout half as many men in St. Mungo’s, compared to them – they’re so high and damn mighty because they’re employed by the Ministry.”

 

            “They’re jealous; the private defense industry boom is really putting them out.” Remus rationalized.

 

            “Still pricks.”

 

            “Right you are.”

 

            Sirius grabbed onto the hand running through his hair, bringing it lightly to his lips before resting it between his own hand and his chest. “What of your day, love? How was it?”

 

            “Could’ve been better. Managed to bodily injure Harry after his nap.” Remus bit at his lower lip again.

 

            “With malicious intention, I’m sure.” Sirius teased.

 

            “It isn’t funny.” Remus sighed. “Harry doesn’t come naturally to me, not like you. I whacked Harry’s head on the doorframe pretty hard while playing. He’s only five, Sirius. What’ll I manage to screw up for him when he’s on his way to Hogwarts? When he’s sixteen? When he’s getting married? When he’s-“

 

            “Hush.” Sirius squeezed the hand beneath his. “You think that banging a kid’s head makes you any sort of bad, Moony?” He suddenly sat up, wrapping his arms round the man beside him. “I suppose it’s because you haven’t had the fortune of meeting honestly bad parental figures. Mine tried to ruin my life eight ways to Sunday by the time I was Harry’s age. They didn’t care if I was happy, or healthy, or developing like a regular kid. They cared that I was a Black – acted that way, and stayed that way.”

 

            He paused to drop a kiss to his lover’s head. “You and I don’t care what Harry is. He could be a Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, or Ape, and we’d love him just the same. I see how you watch him, Moony. You love him like he’d been ours from the get go. You’re quite the natural at this.”

 

            Remus let himself smile, just a bit. “It’s tough.”

 

            “Yeah, well so are we.”

 

            The conversation was cut short by the pattering of little feet down the hallway. Harry approached the men, apparently having decided to drag his whole blanket with him instead of properly getting out of bed.

 

            “Pup, you’re awake!” Sirius lifted Harry onto his lap, uncaring of the late hour or his own exhaustion.

 

            “You shut the door too loud when you got home.” Harry commented, making both men snicker.

 

            “Padfoot’ll be more careful in the future, okay? Let’s get you back to bed now.” Remus stood in an attempt to coax Harry down the hall.

 

            “I’ll take him, you have a seat.” Sirius stood with Harry in his arms, gathering up the blanket behind the child.

 

            “You sure?” Remus asked.

 

            “I hardly get to see him enough as is, and you’ve already gotten the chance to put him to bed once tonight. Harry, say goodnight to Moony.” Sirius passed Harry to Remus for a hug.

 

            “Night Moony.” Harry said, wrapping his arms around the man’s neck. Love you.”

 

            The two adults froze. They’d said the phrase to Harry before, and certainly he’d heard it shared between the Dursleys, but this was the first time the boy had expressed the sentiment to either of them. To anyone, actually.

 

            “Love you too, Pup.” Remus finally returned, his voice more than slightly cracking. “Love you so much.”

 

            “All right, here we go.” Sirius reluctantly took Harry back, and headed down the hall. “I think you broke Moony, Pup.”

 

            “Will you fix him?” Remus heard the conversation continue.

 

            “I’ll work on it. He’s a sappy one, isn’t he?”

 

            Harry giggled, and the soft “plop!” Of a child being playfully dropped onto the bed could be heard. More words were exchanged, the light went out, and just when Remus thought he’d see Sirius reenter the hallway, the little voice spoke again.

 

            “Love you Padfoot.”

 

            A voice (just as cracked as his own had been, Remus noticed) replied, “Love you Harry. Sleep well.”

 

            Perhaps, Remus reconsidered, they weren’t messing up Harry too badly, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow not delayed at all! So sorry about it – I could give you the whole dramatic tale of life, or I could realize that life literally happens to everyone and I should’ve scheduled writing time in. I haven’t given up on this, or FCFC! Thank you for all the lovely reviews, they truly mean the world to me. Please let me know what you think of this chapter, as well! Xoxo


	3. Moony and the Moon

Sirius stood in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter, completely flummoxed. There was so much to say, and absolutely nowhere to begin. This was a big conversation, much bigger than the oblivious five-year-old sitting at the counter across from him, who was currently preoccupied with a half finished coloring page.

Yes, the other party in this difficult discussion would be his tiny godson, Harry Potter. Harry had accepted everything so far – from explanations of same-sex couples to introductions of magic – with nothing but happiness and enthusiasm. This, however, would be different. Would Harry smile if Sirius mentioned that their beloved Remus was a fairytale monster?

No, no, he’d never use the “M” word. He didn’t even let Remus use it, to describe himself. Still, the word would hang like a suspended dagger. Sirius didn’t know how any of them would cope if Harry lost his trust in Moony.

“Pup,” Sirius finally managed to begin, “that’s a great fish that you’re working on. Good job staying inside the lines, too.”

“He’s purple.” Harry casually informed Sirius, still totally absorbed in his art.

“He is, isn’t he? Nice choice, though I would’ve chosen gold, myself.”

“I know.” Harry worked diligently at the contours of the fins. “You always color everything gold. I don’t have any more yellow crayons.”

Sirius laughed. “We’ll get some more, then.”

“Kay.” Harry put a finishing touch on his paper – a big “H-A-R-R-R-R-R-Y” (R was his favorite letter to write, so he tended to get carried away) in the lower right corner. “Then I’ll make a picture for you. This one is for Moony, since he doesn’t care ‘bout the color. Is he still napping? I want to give it to him.”

“He’s still napping. We’ll hang it on the fridge, and it can be a surprise for when he wakes up! How about that?” Sirius took the picture and affixed it with a googly-eye magnet.

“Why’s he still napping?” Harry complained. “He naps more than I do, and he’s a grown up! I want Moony to come play with us.”

Here it was. “He’d love to, Pup, but he just can’t right now.”

“But why?”

Sirius sighed. “I’m having a chocolate milk. Would you like one, as well?”

Apparently, Harry wasn’t up for any circumvention (though he did accept the drink). “Why won’t Moony play, Padfoot?”

Sirius took the barstool beside his godson. “I’ll tell you, Harry, but you have to make me a promise – you can never, ever tell anyone what I’m about to tell you. It’s a secret between you, me, and Moony.”

Harry’s brow furrowed. “Or I’ll be in trouble?”

Damn the Dursleys. For all he and Remus had done to help Harry – and the child had taken impossibly huge strides – he still associated punishment with physical and emotional trauma.

“We’re never, ever going to hurt you, Harry. You know that. This isn’t about trouble for you or me: Moony would be in big danger if this secret ever got out.”

Harry nodded, solemn. “I won’t tell anybody. Even if Mr. Albus gives me a candy.”

Sirius had to smile at that one. The child had apparently already picked up on the headmaster’s manipulation tactics. Impressive.

“Thank you. I trust you, and know you’ll not tell anyone. So, Moony, he’s… He’s got… He’s a bit sick.”

The green eyes blinked, confused. “Let’s bring him a potion, then. And you can magic him if it doesn’t work.”

“It’s a different kind of sick. It doesn’t go away.” Sirius took a long swig of chocolate milk. “When he was- well, he was just older than you-“ He stopped, catching himself off guard. “Merlin, he was just older than you.”

“When he got sick?” Harry asked after a moment of silence. “So he’s been sick all this time?”

“Sort of.” The man returned to reality. “It’s a permanent sickness, but he isn’t sick all the time. Just about once every month. That’s why sometimes he takes a lot of naps. You see, most all of the time, he’s our silly Moony who loves us to the stars and back. However, just for a little bit of time, only when the moon is out and only once a month, his body changes. He doesn’t mean to, and he really doesn’t want to, but he turns into a – a very grumpy, mean dog.”

“Uh oh.” Harry chewed his lower lip, apparently having picked up Remus’s idiosyncrasies already. “Like when you’re being Puppy Padfoot?”

Sirius wished, with all his might, that he could but a stopper on Harry’s innocence right here, and never let any more slip away. That was impossible, though. “No, nothing like me. I can change whenever I want to, and inside my head, I’m still just me. Moony, though, can’t stop himself from changing, no matter how much he wishes he could. When he’s the mean dog – it’s called a werewolf – he thinks and acts like the mean dog. He wouldn’t recognize you, or me, or even himself if he saw a picture.”

Harry’s eyes were downcast. He broke his crayon in half.

“You understand, Pup? Are you okay? It’s all right if you have any questions.”

No reply.

“How are you feeling, Harry?”

Both halves of the crayon dropped to the ground. “Sad.”

Sirius tilted the child’s chin up, and towards him. There was a pout on the little face. “It makes you sad that Moony is sick?”

“It makes me sad that he can’t get better.” Harry began to get worked up. “And it’s not fair! It’s not fair because Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and Dudley were the meanest people in the world, and they hardly ever got sick, but Moony is the nicest person in the world and he has to be sick forever! It’s not fair, Padfoot!”

“Oh, Puppy.” Sirius squeezed Harry’s hand. “I know. I know it’s not fair.”

“But there’s magic! Why can’t we magic him? Please?” Harry begged.

Sirius didn’t realize he’d have to deal with this conversation today, too. “There are some things even magic can’t fix.”

Harry thought for a second. “What if you used two wands, and a potions?”

Sirius shook his head “no.”

“What if you ask Mr. Albus? I wont say anything, but you or Moony can ask him. He’s really smart. You can tell him I’ll clean up his office and look after Fawkes for a whole year if he can fix Moony.”

“No one needs you to act the House Elf, Harry. Mr. Albus can’t fix this either. All we can do is make Moony as happy and comfy as possible before and after the transformation.”

“Then we will.” Harry was so resolute to help, so quickly – so like James. “How do we do that?”

“It’s complicated.” Sirius took a break to refill his chocolate milk (frankly, he wished he could add something a little stronger in there, too). “As much as werewolves don’t get along with humans, they’re fine with other animals. They even like to play, sometimes.”

“But I thought they were grumpy?”

“They are.” Sirius sighed. “They’re grumpy and very dangerous. You’re never to be near a werewolf during the Full Moon, even if it’s Moony.”

“Moony wouldn’t-“ Harry began to protest.

“He would, Harry, that’s the scary part. He would still be dangerous, because he isn’t in his right mind. Then you’d be hurt, and Moony and I would never, ever forgive ourselves for letting you be hurt like that.” Sirius scolded.

It wasn’t often that he took that tone, and Harry bowed his head. “I just want to help.”

Sirius took the stool beside Harry. “Of course you do, Pup. Your picture is going to help him a lot.”

Harry jumped down from the stool and grabbed his picture from the refrigerator. Before Sirius could stop him, he ripped his coloring sheet in two.

“Harry!” Sirius lifted the child up to sit on the counter. “What was that for?”

“S’just a dumb picture. S’not gonna help Moony.”

“I’m taping it back together. He really does –“

“No!” Harry yelled. Sirius stopped like a stalled broom.

“No!” Harry continued. “Don’t put it back together!”

“Harry, calm down-“

“No!”

Sirius had no idea what to do. The kid hadn’t even put up a fight about eating broccoli yet! Where was this coming from?

“I don’t want Moony to have it. No, no, NO! No, Padfoot!”

“Fine.” Sirius conceded, palms up in surrender. “I’ll tape it back and put it on the fridge like before. You, Pup, need to calm down.”

“No.” Harry pouted. “And don’t put it back together.”

Sirius sighed, putting the drawing down to lift Harry up. “I think it’s time for a nap.”

“No!” With all the power his little arm could muster, Harry hit Sirius in the bicep.

Well, this was new.

“Harry James Potter, you are to use your words, not your hands.” Sirius barely recognized his own voice, summoning those words so often said to him, a generation ago.

“Let me go.” Harry pouted.

“Apologize, then, Harry.”

Instead of an “I’m sorry,” Sirius only got another punch to the arm.

Sirius hated to be the disciplinarian. He hated to tell Harry that he was doing anything wrong. This couldn’t be ignored, though, could it? He knew be doing worse by Harry by letting it slide.

“Go to your room.” Sirius put Harry to the floor and pointed him down the hall.

Harry was confused. “Why?”

“You’re getting a time out, that’s why. You’ll stay in there and think about why hitting is wrong.” Or, at least, that’s what Sirius thought the child was supposed to do. He wasn’t too well versed in the time out.

“Fine. Don’t want to talk to you, anyway.” Harry stomped down the hall and slammed his door.

Sirius sighed. He took a moment hope that this was a youthful phase and not a foreshadowing of adolescent behavior, and then followed down the same hall, into his and Remus’s room.

Remus was sitting up in bed, holding a cool, wet rag to his forehead. This was a painfully common sight around the full moon.

“A headache, Moony?” Sirius asked, quiet.

“Nope.” Remus replied, eyes still closed. “Just feeling warm, and a little shaky. Not too bad, though, all things considered. This feels like an easy moon.”

Remus always found a way to slip that term into conversation, to mollify Sirius. They both knew it was inane – Remus never knew how easy or difficult a transformation would be until all was said and done. Pretending there were signs and omens of a “good” moon made it easier on both their minds.

With that, Sirius climbed into bed, next to his partner. He tried to take his hand, but Remus pretended to miss the offer. Sirius felt grim – that was a frequent sign that Remus’s hands were beginning to cramp, in anticipation of the claws that would soon spring out.

“When are you taking him over?” Remus asked, casually.

“Shh.” Sirius comforted. “After I tell him.” He spoke in a whisper, hoping Remus wouldn’t fully comprehend the words.

It was a stupid tactic, of course. When had Remus Lupin ever misheard anything? He was part wolf, for Merlin’s sake.

“You haven’t told him?” Remus groaned. “Sirius, we had an agreement. We had a plan. You can be such a-“

“Wasn’t my fault! He hit me!”

Remus let out a laugh, and Sirius was grateful that he was able to, albeit unintentionally, lift his lover’s spirits. “He must pack quite a punch, to knock the responsibility straight out of your head. Or, well, I guess in your case, one wouldn’t have to be trying so hard to do that.”

“He’s in a time out. I’ll tell him when he’s out.”

“Right. Good. He’ll think it’s more punishment, then we’ve established this arrangement to be something bad right from the get go.” Remus lightly backhanded Sirius on the chest, wincing at impact. “Now I’m going to be in time out too, aren’t I?” He teased.

Sirius smiled, mischievous. “You’ll be in trouble, all right, but I think we should save that punishment until after the moon.”

Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius kissed him.

“I’m going to go talk to him now. I’ll make it right as rain, and you’ll see, he’ll barely want to wave ‘bye’ to you on our way to the floo.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“NO!” Harry wailed, bundled deep beneath layers of quilts and comforters. He’d gotten into the under bed storage while in time out, and set up a sort of bunker of blankets for himself, on the floor. “Not going anywhere! You can’t make me!”

“Harry,” Sirius tried to reason, “They’re very, very nice people. They’re my family. They’ll only be watching you for one night. I’ll be back for you in the morning. It’ll be a sleepover, Harry! Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

There was a great, loud inhale, and Sirius braced himself for another impossible yell. How could children that small make that much noise?

“Moony says neither of you are sending me away, not ever. But now you’re tryin’ ta’ send me away. You’re a LIAR!” He ended in a screech that would give a banshee a run for her galleons.

“It’s not like that.” Sirius heard his own voice rise slightly, in frustration. He forced himself to calm down. “You know we love you, Puppy, and we’d never, ever actually send you away. It’s just a night! They have a daughter named Tonks, who can’t wait to meet you. She’s on holiday from school right now. I bet she’ll want to color with you.”

Nothing. Sirius kept trying.

“Mr. Ted is a better cook than anyone I know. Even Moony. Mrs. Andromeda is the best storyteller in the world – you can ask her to tell you about dragons, Harry. She’s met real live dragons.”

Harry poked his head out from underneath the mound. “What if something happens to Moony while I’m gone?”

“Oh pup,” Sirius sighed. “You don’t be worried about Moony, love. He’ll be fine. I promise.”

“You promise-promise?” Harry asked.

“I promise-promise-promise.” Sirius confirmed.

“You promise times infinity?” Harry added to the negotiation.

Sirius could accept those terms. “I promise times infinity-infinity. Up you get.”

Harry shimmied out of his self-imposed swaddling. “Can I say bye to Moony?”

“Of course.” Sirius picked up the small overnight bag that Remus had packed for Harry last week. “Just be extra gentle.”

Harry smirked. “I’ll be extra-extra gentle.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Don’t be sad, Moony. It’s only just a night. And Mr. Ted is a better cook than anyone. Even you and Padfoot. ‘Specially Padfoot.”

The words only made Remus hold Harry tighter to his chest. Though the man’s muscles ached, the pain in his heart was greater, now that he follu realized their little boy would be gone ‘till tomorrow. “That’s right, Pup. I’m not sad.”

Sirius pried Remus’s hands away. “You’ll support that argument better by easing up on the death grip.”

“Was this a bad idea?” Remus mouthed to Sirius.

Sirius shook his head. The past several moons had been particularly bad, and Sirius knew it was because he wasn’t there to run with the wolf. It would be best for all three of them if someone else supervised Harry. Besides, Andromeda had been positively itching to meet, as she said, “Lily’s darling boy.”

“Bye Moony. Love you.” Harry said, pushing himself up.

Remus brought the child back for one more kiss on the forehead. “Love you too. Behave.”

“Kay.”

“’I’ll be right back. Toss and yell into the floo if there’s an emergency.”

“Yes doctor.” Remus said, sardonic.

“Hey.” Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Though I told you, none of that until after the moon.”

Remus flushed. “Not that – Not in front of Harry, you dolt!”

No matter the child was already in the hallway, waiting impatiently for Sirius, totally oblivious to the connotation.

Sirius laughed and followed the child. Remus was able to hear a small voice, right before the two floo-ed away: “You’re Moony’s doctor?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What have I done?? Hehe oops. #sorry #IthinkI'llbebetterbutwhoknows #you'remyfavorites

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading – please review, let me know what you think! This was going to be my next project, but my WIP (at ff.net under u/n wateronthebrain) was driving me nuts, so I decided to take a break and get started on this.
> 
> This is set to be a long series of one shots, in keeping with my head cannon of “if Wolfstar raised Harry…” Keep checking for more, soon! The next bit (and everything after, in keeping) won’t necessarily be continuous, but I’ll try my best for it to be chronological. Thanks again, you’re the best!


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